


Survival

by silvertrails



Series: Fourth Age and Beyond [17]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22623022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: This story is a companion to "A Changing World", though it can stand on its own. Maglor travels alone to the north.
Series: Fourth Age and Beyond [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1247306
Kudos: 8





	Survival

**Survival  
By CC  
February 2020**

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit is made, and no harm is intended.

This is a companion story to “A Changing World.” Biarne is a female shapeshifter, and she is my character. The first time I wrote her was in “Daeron’s Story”.

* * *

Maglor had left Biarne’s dwelling first, hoping that Daeron stayed with her and the other Shapeshifters at least until they moved away. It had been difficult to leave Daeron behind, but he could not risk staying with him and hurt him. Since Maedhros threw himself into the fire, Maglor had not been himself. Darkness was always lurking in the back of his mind, and when it became too much, he had to be alone. 

He was deep into the northern lands now, and memories came to his mind as he saw the snow on top of the mountains. The world was round now, and the Helcaraxë was gone, yet he could hear almost see Nolofinwë’s host walking down paths like the one he was taking, exhausted and hungry, half-frozen and mourning their death. Arakáno had died so fast, and he had not been the only one who died shortly after they set foot on Endorë. 

All of this had happened because Fëanor and most of his sons, Maglor among them, burned the ships at Losgar. Only Maedhros had stayed aside and he had lost more than everyone in this senseless quest. Maglor knew it now, that the Silmarils were lost to them since they killed the Teleri at Alqualondë to steal their ships. When the Silmarils had burnt his hand and Maedhros’, when they finally realized how low they had fallen, his brother left him alone.

Maglor was angry at first, because Maedhros had abandoned him to his pain, but then he understood his brother’s despair. He understood why Maedhros had ended his life, and he wished he could do the same. He had stood alone on a cliff, looking at the rough waters and the powerful waves crashing against the coast. Maglor had looked at his burned hand before he closed his eyes and jumped. He had not died. The sea had refused to take him. Ómar had come later, and made Maglor promise that he would live. 

So, here he was, loving Daeron too much to bring him to these lands where he planned to try again. Would the Valar accept him now, or was he doomed to walk these lands forever? Maglor had left his horse behind, told him to find a better master. He could sense the noble beast close, though. Rokko was descended from the horses they brought from Aman, and he would not abandon him.

Maglor looked around. There were no cliffs, but there were frozen lakes past the forest that hid death under their surface. All he had to do was let go and the cold waters would eventually render him unconscious. There was something that kept weakening his resolve, though, and it was the thought of Daeron alone in Endorë. His friend, and lover was stronger now, and he had not relapsed into confusion or insanity for a long time. Even Biarne had agreed with Maglor. Daeron was better, and ready to make a life for himself, away from Maglor.

_Are you certain this is what you want, son of Fëanor, to go back to solitude and silence?_

_It is what I must do, Biarne._

_Why?_

That had given Maglor pause. Why was he going on his own and letting Daeron go? He loved Daeron. That was why he was letting him go.

_Because the darkness inside me will bring him down, eventually._

_Daeron is stronger than you believe, Maglor. You saved him, but he has saved you from yourself._

_In time, my darkness will taint his light._

Maglor sighed and sat down beside an old pine. Trees didn’t speak to him, like they did to Daeron. Why was he thinking of him again? The lake he had been looking for was only a few leagues away, and he had to push any feelings away or he would not be able to try again.

“You promised not to try again.”

He heard Ómar’s voice before the Maia materialized in from of him. Maglor stood and looked at his friend. 

“I am a Fëanorian, Ómar, and I am damned. I am a killer---”

“But not someone who would break a promise. What has changed, Makalaurë? Why do you want to do this?”

Maglor looked away. “Because I am tired.”

Ómar said nothing.

Maglor looked at him again. “What do you want me to say, Ómar? That I am tired of being alone? That the one person who loves me would follow me to oblivion? That I love him too much to taint him?”

Omaar sighed softly. “Daeron has brought light into your life. Why do you think you will taint him? All beings have light and darkness inside them, but you chose light when you decided to raise Elwing’s sons.”

“After forcing their mother to throw herself down a cliff.”

“Elwing chose to do that.” Ómar moved closer. “I know the attack drove her to this, that something in her mind broke and she chose to protect the Silmarils and not her sons, but Elrond called you Father.”

“Elwing was broken since we attacked her home and killed Dior and Nimloth, and her brothers were left to die in the forest by Tyelkormo’s servants.”

“Nelyafinwë looked for them. Listen to me, Makalaurë. The Valar will not let you die, but they are giving you the opportunity to redeem yourself.”

Ómar took Maglor in his arms and held him close. “Give yourself time to heal, to adapt to the changes of these lands, but think not of this exile as a punishment. Think of it as a possibility of redemption. Do not deny yourself the company of friends, or lovers. Survival is not only a matter of being alive with an empty heart. Allow yours to fill with love and see the passing of the ages. I will always be close when you need me, and Daeron will be waiting for you when you are ready to go back to him.”

Maglor started to cry silently, unable to do anything but feel the comfort of his friend. He had met Ómar and Salmar when he was a child, and he had learned something about himself when Ómar kissed him. It had cost him Isilmë, and Maglor hoped that she could take another mate, but for now all he could do was rest in Ómar’s arms.


End file.
